Hellfire
by Anarchy Is Liberation
Summary: Claire Cambrion - tutor by day, vigilante by night, and always careful to make sure the two never mix. Until the Batman sinks his claws into her, and the line between Claire and Hellfire blur into nothingness. OC/Wally West.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Claire Cambrion - tutor by day, vigilante by night, and always careful to make sure the two never mix. Until the Batman sinks his claws into her, and the line between Claire and Hellfire blur into nothingness. OC/Wally West.

* * *

_Masked Vigilante in Central City - Friend or Foe?_

Claire eyed the newspaper headline with distaste. She hadn't _meant_ to be caught on camera, honest. It just happened - some guy in the right place at the right time. _The author was rather neutral, _she admitted. The article had stated nothing but the facts, outlining what the 'masked vigilante' had done, quoted a few eyewitnesses, and then pondered if it was the rise of Central City's own Batman.

She snorted. She certainly wasn't the second coming of the Batman - Claire didn't go to Gotham often, maybe once a year to visit her great aunt, but when she did, she was usually bombarded with new of Batman constantly. Joker, Scarecrow, Riddler, Penguin, some muscle head named Bane. And Batman handled it all, with his trusty sidekick at his side.

Claire could handle a few robberies and some idiot thugs, but mass murders spewing riddles and laughing gas? No. She'd leave that to the Flash, Central City's superhero that she had yet to run into. She didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"Anything interesting?"

Elena Cambrion was a beautiful woman, something Claire always envied. Blonde, blue-eyed, perfect height - Elena was the thing of magazine covers. She was also a top notch journalist.

"Read your article," Claire grinned, turning the paper around so her mom could see the front page. The 'masked vigilante' had been caught on camera mid transformation, her skin caught between actual skin and rock. Claire always hated using the Earth element, mostly for vanity's sake. The element itself was extremely stubborn, so Claire only used it when she needed block something big or explosive. In the case of last night, when the picture had been taken, Claire had used it to block a bomb from going off in her face. Generally, she prefered fire. "It was really good."

"You think so?" Elena asked, pleased. She'd retired from journalism when she'd gotten pregnant with Claire, happily taking to the life of a housewife. Until last year when her husband, Michael Cambrion, drove himself off a bridge. "It's my first front-page," she said, even though they both knew.

Daniel was a family friend from Elena's college days, and also the Editor and Chief of Central City's top newspaper. He'd been more than happy to give Elena back her job, but he'd taken it slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Elena had been stuck reporting about Central's Elite and whatever drama they got up to.

"That's awesome, mom," Claire put the newspaper down, knowing her mom would want to look at it some more. "Maybe you can talk Daniel into giving you exclusive with her," she continued, tipping her chin at the picture to clarify the 'her.' She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and wrinkled her nose. "I gotta get going," she sighed, picking her backpack up from off the ground and swinging it over her shoulder.

"What, why?" Elena looked at the backpack in confusion, "Claire, it's Sunday, silly, you don't have school." Claire gave her a look that clearly read '_yes, mom, I know that.'_

"I told you, Principal Stacy asked me to take on another kid to tutor, and we agreed on Sundays."

"Oh," Elena, blinked, obviously surprised by the news. Claire actually hadn't told her, mostly because she'd been too busy. School was hard enough as it was, not to mention tutoring, and then she'd gone and added vigilate'ing it up around Central. But Elena didn't know that, and things would go smoother if she thought Claire had told her and then she'd just forgotten. "Well, have fun."

"So much fun," Claire snarked, finger waving at her mom as she skipped out the front door of their apartment. The walk to school wasn't very difficult - her apartment building was only a block away, and the weather was nice. Claire smiled, tucking her bangs behind her ear, fingers catching on the leg of her glasses.

They were a new edition she hadn't quite gotten used to, yet. She prefered contacts, but they ones she normally used had started to irritate her eyes. So, glasses. Her friend, Becky Waters, thought they were adorable. But Becky didn't have to wear them, so Becky didn't get a say.

Central High's library was open on Sundays specifically for tutoring sessions. There were always at least two teachers there as volunteers to keep an eye on everything, and the librarian. Mr. Marks, her AP Lang teacher, was most often than not one of the volunteer teachers, with Mrs. Van Hol and Mr. Krauss rotating.

"Oh, Claire! I wasn't expecting you this week," Mr. Marks called, a smile on his face. Claire smiled back, hiking her backpack farther up her shoulder.

"Yeah, I got a new student," she shrugged, "For Latin," she clarified. It was surprising, really, that someone taking Latin needed help - the class was full of honor roll students, and she couldn't see any of them risking their GPA on something as stupid as Latin.

"Really? Well, sign in with Ms. Addams, and she'll tell you what table you're at," he told her, waving at the Checkout desk. Claire nodded, giving him one last smile.

She signed in with Ms. Addams, chatting about the usual pleasantries, and went to her assigned table. #15 was close to the back, but not so far that the teachers couldn't see them from the front. Claire sat on the far side facing the door and took out her book. She also pulled out her science homework, figuring she could kill two birds with one stone.

'_A sheath of tissue surrounding the organs of a mollusk, producing the mollusk's shell and performing respiration.' _

Claire sighed. She hated science.

"Mantle."

Claire jumped, barely clamping down on a shriek that wanted out. She twisted, startled to see a grinning redhead standing behind her. "What?" she asked, tucking her hands under the table so he couldn't see them, the fire that had unconsciously sprung from her fingertips extinguishing.

"The definition?" he pointed at her paper, "It's for 'mantle.'"

"Oh," Claire blinked, "Thanks."

"No problem," he grinned, swinging around the table. Had he purposely snuck up behind her? "I'm Wally, by the way." He paused and struck a pose. "West. Wally West."

Claire giggled, smacking a hand over her mouth so the sound didn't get louder. "Cambrion," she mimicked, "Claire Cambrion."

"Nice. Gotta love alliteration," he sighed, plopping down in the seat across from her. "But uh, here's the deal," he braces his arms against the table, leaning forward like he was telling her a secret. "I don't actually need a tutor."

Claire raised an eyebrow. She didn't personally know him, but she'd seen him in a lot of her classes. And since all her core classes were AP, and so was one of her electives, she would normally agree - anyone taking that kind of course load wouldn't really need help. But … "Mrs. Prince signed you up for tutoring, which means you were failing."

"I understand the stuff," he defended, "But I just don't have the patience to sit down and actually do my homework and stuff. I can manage with my Main Cores, but it's harder with electives. Plus, I don't really like Latin," he grinned at the last part, and Claire snorted.

"I just need someone to keep me focused."

"You need a babysitter," she clarified dryly.

"I need no such thing!" he protested in mock outrage. He puffed out his chest, arms akimbo. "The nerve." Claire laughed, kicking at the leg of his chair. He deflated, slouching back into his chair like it was a throne to his particularly lazy king. "But, uh, is that - is that okay with you?"

Claire nodded, "Yeah, it's fine. I can do my homework, then, too, but I'll still ask you questions every now and then to make sure you actually know what you're doing."

"Fair enough, beautiful." he grinned.

* * *

He did, in fact, know what he was doing. Claire wasn't really surprised. For all that he acted like an idiot, he was surprisingly smart. And hyper. Claire had lost count of how many times she'd kicked his chair to get him to refocus, but they'd both managed to finish their respective homework in the hour-and-a-half they'd been at the library.

"So, this worked out well," Wally said, sliding around the table to prop himself against it. Claire blinked at him, bending down a little to grab her backpack.

"It did, actually," she agreed, flashing him a smile.

"Do you think we could, ya know, do it again?" he gave her a hopeful look, exaggeratingly blinking his eyes. Claire snorted, but furrowed her brows.

"Well, yeah, Wally. I'm tutoring you. Until you get your grade back up to a C," she pointed out, confused.

"No, no - I mean. I mean like, _outside_ the library."

"Oh, um." Would she be able to? And where would they meet? Certainly not at her place, she didn't trust her mom not to be embarrassing. She frowned in confusion. Would this be considered -

"Not a date," Wally rushed. "Unless you want it to be," he winked. "But I meant as friends."

- not a date then, okay.

Claire smiled, tucking her bangs behind her ear and making a frustrated noise when they fell back in her face. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Awesome! Here, gimme your phone," he demanded, making grabby hands at her. She laughed, pulling out the two year old _Wayne Tech_ phone and handing it over. Wally tapped away at it, face screwed up in exaggerated concentration.

If there was one thing she'd learned about Wally West during their hour-and-a-half tutoring session, it was that he never did anything halfway, except maybe his Latin homework. His jokes were so stupid they were actually funny, he was dramatic, and he _loved. to. flirt._ It had taken Claire by surprise, but she figured he was just one of those guys whose default was flirt mode.

Wally made a triumphant noise and handed her back her phone, before fishing his out of his pocket.

Claire unlocked the phone, a simple slide lock because she didn't use a password, and went to her text section.

**To: The Wallman;) **

**aaaaye, girl, what's up?**

Claire raised an eyebrow and sent 'The Wallman' a look over the rim of her glasses. Her phone vibrated.

**From: The Wallman;)**

**I'm in insulted claire. all this time 2gether nd u think I'm a girl? :0**

"Oh my God," she sighed, amused.

**To: The Wallman;)**

**sorry. your chest gave me the impression that you were a woman. my bad. won't happen again.**

He made a strangled noise, slapping a hand to his chest to make sure there wasn't any cleavage. "Not cool."

Claire laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

Hellfire hesitated at the imaginary but very real line she'd come to. There were certain rules that every hero followed; no maiming, no killing, avoid civilian casualties at all costs, and never, _ever ever _go into Gotham City without express permission from the Caped Crusader himself. Hellfire was good at following the rules. She never stayed out late, she got good grades, she always turned her homework in on time, and the dishes were always done when it was her turn.

She _liked_ following the rules, okay, because that meant there was structure. And structure was a necessary part of everyday society. If it was up to her, she'd hightail her way back to Central City. _But … _Malcolm Rodriguez had run straight into Gotham, no doubt under the impression that Hellfire wouldn't follow him there. And for all that she liked to follow the rules, she was _not_ about to let some pansy jewel thief get the better of her.

So. _To Gotham we go,_ she thought wryly, breezing into the air like she was never there at all. If fire was her favorite element, air was a close second - and by far the most useful. It was also one of the strangest feelings she'd ever had. She took on the characteristics of the element she channeled - when she used earth, her skin hardened and her hits caused more damage. With fire, her skin burned at the touch. With water, she flowed, faster than any normal person could keep up. With air … she was just gone, not even an actual body anymore.

It was thrilling and terrifying all at the same time, which summed up her time as Hellfire rather nicely.

She spread out, brushing against people and around buildings until she found who she was looking for. Malcolm Rodriguez was strolling down an alley, calm as could be. Obviously, she'd been right to assume he thought she wouldn't follow. She gathered over a roof near him, starting the slow process of turning corporeal; turning to air was always easier. For some reason, the intangible element was clingy. With a little bit of coercion, the element let go, leaving her to thud gently onto the roof. Hellfire flexed her fingers and rolled her neck before turning her attention back to Rodriguez.

He looked like he knew where he was going, which was odd, considering he'd lived in Central all his life. _Then again, _she thought, _he might not have._ There was no denying he had contacts; he'd gotten out of nearly a dozen criminal charges, even when there was clear evidence against.

The smart thing to do would be to follow him. He was going somewhere, which meant there was somewhere to go, which meant there was something to find.

But the longer she stayed in Gotham, the better than chance of Batman finding her. _If he hadn't already._ He probably had. Although, if she left now, maybe she could get away. Rodriguez was in his territory, so it was his problem, right? Right.

_Wrong,_ she sighed, tilting her head back to look at the sky. The fog of Jersey and Gotham clogged the air and blocked out the stars, but she could see the moon, a waning gibbous. Her father had _loved _the moon.

"What are you doing here?"

Hellfire didn't jump. _Barely,_ but she didn't. She _did_ flame, though, beautiful blue fire dancing over her fingertips. Cursing her momentary lapse, she turned, trepidation twisting her stomach. "He came from Central," she told him, tilting her head back to where Rodriguez had turned the corner.

"He's in Gotham, now," Batman growled, a formidable wall of controlled violence and intimidation all rolled into one black clad package. She nearly caved and gave into the urge to duck down and out of Gotham. It would be easier.

"His crime was in Central," she insisted, "He's my problem." She tilted her chin up, the moonlight glinting off the crimson teeth of her mask in an eerie display. Batman wasn't the only one who could be intimidating, she told herself. Her entire outfit was designed to make her seem bigger than life, from the black kevlar that clung to her and the defensive spikes on her forearms, to the grinning demon mask that covered most of her face.

Hellfire could see where her mother had made the connection between the two, but really.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Batman asked, stalking closer. Hellfire hesitated, but gave a mental shrug. Why not. She flung herself over the gap between the two roofs, the winding carrying her farther than a normal person could jump. She knew the Batman was behind her, even though she couldn't hear him, and she let go. The wind told her where to go, and she didn't question, just followed. Rodriguez hadn't gotten far, and Hellfire settled into following him at a sedate pace. Batman had, for all intent and purposes, disappeared, though a tentative connection with air told her he was a few roof tops ahead, which. How?

Eventually, Rodriguez slowed and slipped into a warehouse looking building, and Hellfire stopped. Batman appeared at her side the next instant, growling out a "Follow me," before he was jumping, landing light as a feather on the ground. Hellfire followed, doing her best to stop where he did; he knew what he was doing more than she did, and she had no problem letting him take the lead on this part.

Keeping up with Batman wasn't easy, but she managed, twisting around pipes and balancing on rafters until the Dark Knight came to a halt. "Michael Troy," he muttered, focused on the new stranger in the warehouse. He was situated under one of the only working light fixtures, Hellfire noted with amusement. It was an ineffective and obvious method of intimidation. "A low level thug trying to make it big," Batman continued, and she had the strange thought that he was _educating_ her. "His latest attempt is fencing precious jewels and metals."

"I don't know a lot about Malcolm Rodriguez," she admitted. "Information gathering isn't my strong suit. His paper trail says he a Central City native, thirty-two, both parents dead. Father in a car crash, mother of natural causes - cancer, maybe. High school drop out, though he did get his G.E.D. in prison. Armed robbery while on probation."

"You know enough."

Hellfire doubted _enough_ was good enough, but she didn't really care. Computers weren't her thing. It was a miracle and a half when she used a laptop without killing it, and she was damn proud that she found out what she did via her father's computer. "Now what?" she asked.

"This was your idea. You tell me."

"Your territory," she pointed out, the beginnings of a cheeky grin on her lips. "Your call."

Batman stayed quiet, and Hellfire was happy to oblige and watch what was happening on the ground. She hadn't noticed before, but there were two men stationed at a back exit, semi-automatic guns hanging casually off their shoulders. Sh spared a brief moment of distaste - both at the fact that she'd missed them and at the fact that they had guns.

She hated guns. She had two, specially made and tailored to her, both the same color as her mask. Dr. Cambrion had taught her how to shoot, but she never took them out on patrol with her. Even if they were used for intimidation only, the temptation would be there.

A sudden thought occurred to her, and she wondered where Robin was. Generally, he was never very far from Batman's side, unless he was working with that new … team of sidekicks, whatever they called themselves. She wouldn't ask, though, because she'd probably get tossed off the rafters.

"Do you know how to fight?"

She almost said 'yes,' but paused. She knew how to fight, yes. Not as good as Batman or Robin, and not very well without using her elements. "Depends," she settled, "On if I can use elements. If not, then no."

He grunted, and Hellfire wondered if he'd make her sit on the sidelines. "Follow my lead." Hellfire had a brief moment of _what, no_ before he was launching himself off the rafters and onto the ground. Right at Troy Michaels. She figured that meant she was to descend like the wrath of heaven upon Rodriguez.

She could do that.

Shifting into wind once more, she reorganized behind the panicking thief, a demented smile on her face. A few weeks into her stint as Hellfire, and she'd realized that theatrics were a main part in being a vigilante. Each person who put on a mask put on a persona, from the happy go lucky boy next door to the more legend than man entity that Batman personified.

"Did you think I wouldn't find you, Malcolm?" she cooed, fire dancing across her fingers. She lashed out with her leg, knocking his out from underneath him. Obviously not a fighter, but she'd kind of figured that already. Lazily blasting a line of fire at the space next to his head.

"I - I - I -" he stuttered, jerking away from the burnt concrete next to him.

"Hush," she sighed, using the wind to toss him over onto his back. Batman appeared next to her, zip tie in hand. She stepped back, giving him room to restrain Rodriguez, but still staying close.

"He has an outstanding warrant in the state of New Jersey," Batman told her, making her blink. How had she missed that? "His real name is Malcolm Laster."

"He's all yours, then," she shrugged, "And I'll get out of Gotham." She paused, wind gathering around hera whipping her brown hair,"Where's Robin?" she asked, curious.

"Sick," he growled out after a pause. She nodded, accepting the answer, "And Hellfire?"

She stopped, halfway intangible and blurry. "You need to learn to fight without use of your abilities. Meet me here, same time next Thursday." With that he was gone, and Hellfire could faintly hear sirens wailing in the background.

She breezed away, out of Gotham, and it wasn't until she got home and ready for bed that she realized - Batman was going to teach her how to fight.

* * *

**AN: So, it isn't very long, and there's no Wally, but here it is. If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and I'll do my best to either address them in the story or in an AN. And, like most of the things I write, if there's anything in particular that you want to see, feel free to ask and I will do my best to make sure it happens. **

**A fair portion of this chapter is kind of differentiating from Claire and Hellfire - in this chapter, its Dr. Cambrion and Elena; I did this on purpose. Another point of the chapter is pointing out that Hellfire is, indeed, intimidating. No bright colors, no quirky one liners - she's meant to be creepy. Like a Harley Quinn (in the way she talks) mash up with Batman (the way she acts). So. Yeah.**


End file.
